Saturday, June 6, 2009

It's fascinating how a simple whoosh of wind from a person's posterior can prove to be an antidote and a potent poison.

Imagine this scenario: You're trapped in an elevator at Sogo, Saturday afternoon. Everything's quiet and suddenly, a foul stench erupts. You gasp for air, your lungs constrict, and you nearly vomit. It's like a gas chamber, which makes you wonder if some Nazi invented the elevator.

If Hitler knew about this poison, he would have saved a lot of money on Zyklon-B, and spent more on eggs and baked beans.

Now for the second scenario: The same Saturday morning. You woke up on the wrong side of bed, and nobody sent you any friend requests on Facebook (argghhhh! im unpopular)

You go to Sogo and take the elevator. You stomach clenches all of a sudden, but you're afraid of becoming a threat to national security. So you let it out bit by bit, hoping no bass rumbles would give you away.

And you did it! Now you hide a wide grin and watch the 1/8th degree homicide unfolding in the lift. People around you give sharp stares (while gasping) and you stare straight at them, as if to say 'You did it, didnt you?'

Finally the door opens at the perfume floor. Other people rush out like Japanese traingoers attacked by nerve gas. You laugh out loud at your success. It's better than perfume :)